


Constant

by Jougetsu



Series: Symphony from the New World [1]
Category: Pocahontas (1995)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Historical, Canon Character of Color, First Time, Interracial Relationship, M/M, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:55:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jougetsu/pseuds/Jougetsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After living in the village for the past year Thomas finally becomes officially part of the tribe.</p><p>OR </p><p>How Thomas got married without quite realizing it, but it all turns out all right in the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constant

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in a somewhat more historically accurate AU/history fusion backdrop than the movie universe. Essentially, no neon leaves, no talking trees, and no romance between young teen Pocahontas and already-in-his-thirties John Smith. Also Kocoum survived the bullet wound, Thomas nursed him back to health, and John Smith didn't go back to England. 
> 
> tl;dr I wanted Kocoum and Thomas to be as happily gay married as a semi-reasonable reading of history would allow. 
> 
> Please forgive any cultural insensitivities in my shallow slash fic. I am always happy to hear constructive criticism and correction from those more knowledgeable than myself.

A few days ago the other men that Thomas worked with started smiling and laughing, saying that he'd be officially welcomed to the tribe soon. It should have made him scared, angry, or confused. Once this step was taken he would never be able to go back to English society. But what was English society? Unable to be apprenticed in England? Starving and useless in the settlement?

Here he had a life. Friends, acquaintances, enemies, a full spectrum of relationships. Jamestown held only tentative allies, but mostly dismissal, derision, and disease. Slowly, so slowly he has 'gone native' as John Smith predicted.

His English clothes had eventually been shed. His hair had grown long. He let his friends paint his body with traditional designs they deemed best suited to him. He learned to cook the game Kocoum caught, to dry the crops he harvested, to weave nets, to tan hides, and to speak. Speak the words that were no longer foreign on his tongue because he heard him all around him from morning to night.

He went back to report to John Smith every Sabbath day, but each time he felt more and more an alien to Jamestown. It seemed cramped, dirty, and broken. Every time he came back from those sessions the sight of the village erased all his nerves and doubts. He'd shed his English clothes (which seemed to itch and almost hurt once he was no longer used to them) in the longhouse and cozy up next to Kocoum at the evening campfire.

"I thought I was part of the tribe already," Thomas blushed at his own immodesty. His friends laughed good-naturedly.

"Oh, we know you are," said Ahanu. "The children come running when you return with gifts from the Jamestown place. The women sigh at your summer-sun hair. And the hunters are jealous you will not cook their kills."

Rowtaq nudged Thomas' side and grinned a secret grin. "The whole tribe wants to make it official. We love a celebration. We shall drink and eat and make merry all day and night. And you shall have the best time of all."

And everyone laughed once more and Thomas suddenly felt as though there was a joke he was missing. "If that is everyone's wish and if Kocoum is fine with it." Which led to laughter that escalated to howling. Ahanu slapped him on the back and nearly had tears in his eyes.

"Thomas Summer-sun-hair, I assure you, Kocoum is looking forward to it the most," Ahanu exchanged glances with the others.

Before Thomas knew it, it was the morning of the celebration. Even before he opened his eyes he could hear drums and the bustle of the village was louder and cheerier than usual. Unlike other mornings though Kocoum was not beside him. The furs were still warm beside him and Thomas rolled over into the warm spot sighing happily. Some herbs had been thrown on the longhouse fire for it smelled more pungent and sweet than its usual low-level smokiness.

Officially part of the tribe, never to be alone again. To have a place where he fit, even if he was the odd one it didn't hurt. He wondered what he was supposed to do today. No one told him to fast or do anything special. In fact Kocoum didn't say anything at all when he brought it up last evening before they went to bed. Instead his eyes had softened then sparkled with mischief.

Thomas stretched out on the hides and rose to start the day. Months ago he was too shy to sleep in the nude, but now it was normal, comfortable even. He reached for his loincloth, surprised to find his regular one was replaced by something more elaborate to say the least. There were wampum beads sewn all over and a new pair of moccasins equally fine as well as what looked to be jewelry that was worn by the upper classes of Powhatan.

"Good morning, Thomas-Come-To-Village," Rowtaq lifted the reed mats covering the entrance of the hunt. "We are waiting to do your paint and Ahanu promises to dress your hair finely with feathers and shells and only just enough bear grease."

"Thomas-Sleeps-Too-Late," Ahanu's voice rang out behind his friend. "Everyone is waiting for you."

"Coming, coming!" Thomas scrambled outside, even though he felt as though he must have gotten something wrong in his dress.

Machk and Kitchi were waiting as well, all of them in finer garb than usual. Surely he was not worth all of this? "You all look so fine," Thomas was in awe. He turned to look around and noticed that everyone in the village was dressed up, the native version of what Thomas would consider 'Sunday best.'

"Now come and sit still here and we shall make you a sight to see," Ahanu motioned for Machk to bring him the paint and grease. When he noticed Thomas' shy expression he patted his head like an older brother. "Do not be like that, Thomas-Bashful. You must look fine to show your respect to the village, the chief, and to Kocoum."

About an hour later Thomas was proclaimed fit for the day's ceremony. He wished he had a mirror to see what he looked like. The paint was cool on his face and the shells clacked softly in his hair. Hopefully he didn't look foolish in the eyes of his soon-to-be-tribesmen. Everyone was staring at him, but there was no anger or mockery that he could detect.

Machk led him to the great campfire where there was oddly a small little structure that reminded him of the settlement. Ahanu, Kitchi, and Rowtaq were behind him smiling though solemn. All the village was assembled, with curiosity burning in their eyes. This was new to them, he realized with a start. He, fourth son Thomas, was the first Englishman to be part of their tribe.

Whatever nervousness he was feeling must be felt by some degree by all of them. Would he bring them ruin? Betray them? Make the Great Spirit and the ancestors angry? Of course they had a right to be afraid. Yet still there was more happiness in the air than anything else so he let himself hope.  
"Your own kin is not present. I hope you do not mind us as a substitution," Machk said in a low voice, his eyes shining with pride. "We feel as brothers toward you, Thomas Summer-sun."

It started to make sense, a representation of his old dwelling place, a group of family to symbolically give him up, yes Thomas could see that the tribe were all taking this quite seriously and he only hoped he could be worthy of it all.

"You have treated me as only the kindest, most honorable brothers would have," Thomas replied, bashful at the honor that was being given to him. "I hope you do not mind that I count you as my elder brothers."

Before the others could respond there was the call of the conch-horn and the great chief Powhatan himself came to the group assembled before the fire. In one hand was his staff and in the other was a long chain of wampum beads. Thomas nearly bolted because it was all too much. 

The chief was wise, shrewd, kind, but most of all he was a celebrated warrior who conquered enough tribes that Thomas reckoned he might have more land than the King of England. For him to preside over this, this ceremony was akin to having King James himself deign to meet a commoner and hold a ball for him. "Good day to you, most honored one," Thomas let his gaze drop to the ground in deference.

Powhatan gave him a look that could only be called paternal and nodded by way of response. All that was missing was Kocoum? Surely he wouldn't miss Thomas' welcoming ceremony, would he?

The drummers started up a new beat and the crowd opposite Thomas parted to make way for the missing warrior. Thomas couldn't help himself, he gasped.

Kocoum was in full warrior regalia and then some. The painting on him was intricate and gave him the air of a pagan god come down from some heavenly mount. But more than finery it was his expression that went straight to Thomas' heart - it was one of joy, complete satisfaction, and some other emotion that seemed so full that it nearly spilled out around him. "Kocoum."

Apparently Kocoum was not surprised to see the whole village and the great chief himself here, but he did seem taken aback by Thomas' outfit. The pale Englishmen felt another blush heat his face as Kocoum seemed to appraise him from head to toe. Whatever he saw he clearly approved of, for his mouth quirked up at the corners as if he was suddenly privy to a most delightful secret.

It took Thomas a few moments to realize that Powhatan was making a speech, but whether it was for the benefit of him or the tribe was hard to say. All his attention was on Kocoum and then suddenly Powhatan was joining their hands together and saying more grand things and asking for the blessing of the Great Spirit and all the ancestors.

The long string of beads was held above their heads and Powhatan broke it with a deft turn of his wrists showering loose beads all around them. The crowd cheered and some songs Thomas hadn't heard before started up.

Pocahontas and some of the tribe children came running up to congratulate him and chatter away about things he wasn't quite sure he understood though they pointed him towards the great feast laid out a little ways away. Everyone started moving towards the feast which Thomas figured meant the ceremony was well and truly over. Though Kocoum hadn't let go of his hands.

"Are we going to eat?" He wanted to cringe, his voice sounded shaky and almost childish.

"Of course, we're the guests of honor," Kocoum urged Thomas to walk with him. That was a puzzling answer and really he should have thought about it before. He lived in Kocoum's longhouse and they were as, as brothers were they not? So surely Kocoum was part of the ceremony because they were binding them as brothers in the tribe which made him tribesmen? He had been so distracted by Powhatan's appearance and Kocoum's finery that he didn't think about it during the ceremony.

Ahanu and his friends (and their brother-comrades) sat on one side of Thomas at the feast while Kocoum was beside him and all his kin on that side. There was joking and laughing and stories and food aplenty. Every so often Pocahontas and the younger children pulled him away for some little dance or game. Most of the time he was at Kocoum's side receiving guests who came over to speak with them.

Thomas was most familiar with Kocoum's closest relations, the men he spent his days with, and Pocahontas and her dearest friends. Everyone else he knew largely by sight and many by name, but wasn't on intimate terms with. Yet everyone wanted to greet him this day and welcomed him so heartily that a great burden seemed lifted from his soul. One he hadn't even realized was there.

No man can simply eat all day. The warriors and Kocoum organized one of their games with net-sticks and balls in the early afternoon. Dancing and music varied all day - to think he had once thought it all was the same! At long last the moon rose in the sky and the last of the feast was cleared away. Thomas made sure to thank everyone for their kindness or at least the head of each family.

Eyes drooping he let Kocoum lead him by the hand to their shared longhouse. The smell of herbs was fresh again on the fire and Thomas could hardly undress himself he was so exhausted. "Are you sleeping? Now?" Kocoum sounded genuinely shocked.

"Long day," Thomas yawned. "Aren't you tired too?" His eyes were closed as he snuggled onto his favorite place on the furs.

"No man is too tired for his wedding night," Kocoum straddled his companion's legs and cupped his chin. Thomas' eyes flew open.

"Wedding night?!"

"Were you not aware?" Kocoum's loincloth was still on, but Thomas could feel the warm hardness of him beneath it. "You joined hands with me under the chief's blessing. You sat beside me as everyone feasted in our honor. Your brothers gave you away as would your family."

"Men don't marry each other!" The argument which seemed to make sense in England sounded weak and hollow in the wilds of Virginia, at least to Thomas' mind.

"Not many do. But sometimes there are maiden-hearted men who long for a warrior to care for them. Why should they be unhappy with a maiden? There are also manly-hearted women who seek to protect and love a maiden. As long as they can take care of themselves there is no taboo." Kocoum stroked Thomas' hair, noting that his spouse was not trying to move away from him.

He ought to be furious at being called a maiden-hearted man. But that was the kindest epithet that Thomas had been called. There were less savory words in English and none of them had to do with one's heart. "I thought we were as brothers!"

"Do you really?" Kocoum leaned down to press his lips to Thomas' ear. "You cook the game I bring, you tend to my wounds, you comfort me in times of hardship, you share my bed-"

"In a brotherly manner!" but the protest was feeble.

"Brothers may share a bed, but not as we do. You arch and curl into me as only a lover would. Never have you objected to my arms around you. And your dreams betray your interest," the warrior smirked the smirk of the righteous."Why are you ashamed now? Now we have the whole village's blessing and you are a tribesman. Your friends, they are all wives of warriors and you do not seem to be troubled by their marriages."

"I thought that they were in brotherly arrangements like ours." How had he not seen it before? His dear friends didn't act like hedonist pleasure seekers or unrepentant sinners.

"Exactly like ours, only they were coupling every evening with their husbands," Kocoum nuzzled Thomas' neck. "I am not stupid, Thomas. I know you Englishmen couple with men when there are no women about. How is a marriage less honorable than that?"

All his cultural upbringing, every argument against sodomy made no sense in this New World. Sodomy and male-on-male acts were notoriously common on ships including the one they took to Virginia. While he had been sheltered from most of it by Smith, Thomas was aware of it and remembered how he had to struggle to clamp down his curiosity.

"It's not less honorable," Thomas began slowly. "But I have been taught marriage is only for the creation of children." Tentatively he stroked Kocoum's hair in return, something he usually only did in the sleepy haze of early mornings.

"Are there no orphans in your country? Here a couple who cannot make children can care for children whose family has died, or for foundlings who need a home. Or even when one's family has a couple who have more children than they can feed they can take one in. We are no different than any other couple in the village." Kocoum paused and amended, "Save perhaps you are the prettiest wife and I am the handsomest warrior."

Thomas bit his lip and took in Kocoum’s words. The way his, his husband (even the mere word gave him warm shivers) put it everything seemed reasonable, honorable, and right. Once more his life in the village was providing more than he could have dared to hope for in the settlement. “Kocoum,” Thomas exhaled the other man’s name, a sigh and a prayer intertwined.

Kocoum tangled his fingers with Thomas,’ each hand held a point of contact that seemed to radiate heat. “Your eyes are speaking, but I would hear it from your lips. You will not be disgraced for words of love here.” 

Love. How long had he been fooling himself? Telling himself that his friendship with Kocoum was the same as any he has had before with an Englishman. Duty and honor, guilt and shame had drove him to tend to grievous wound he inflicted on the man so many months earlier. Curiosity kept him coming back to the village. Loyalty and friendship tied him to the tribe. Yet it was love that had somehow woven between them so slowly it took Thomas by surprise.

“I hardly know any words of love,” Thomas admitted. “Not only in your language, but even in my tongue.”

“Because you are shy? Or because no one has ever spoken them first to you?” 

“Because I never felt the emotion itself before.” 

The pleased smile on Kocoum’s face was also mixed with an air of tenderness. Clearly the older man prized being the first to court his beloved. Though Thomas noted wryly to himself that they were both well past the courtship stage. “Then we shall learn the words together.” 

Relief flooded Thomas’ veins. The shock of being married to his dear friend had rather worn off, mostly because in retrospect they had been a couple for the better part of the last year without him realizing it. Yet his relief was short-lived as Kocoum undid his loincloth which had the effect of making Thomas’ heart pound. 

They were not strangers to each other’s bodies. Many a time they had bathed in the river together, had slept in only their skins on hot nights, had tended to wounds. But there was the light of intimacy cast upon their interactions. 

“You stare as though you have never seen a man’s member before,” his husband chuckled lowly. “Yet you have seen this very one before.”

Long, curved, and thick Kocoum’s manhood was even more impressive than Thomas remembered from his previous hurried glances. The head was dark and glistened at the tip that called to a dark hunger in Thomas’ gut. So occupied was he by the entrancing sight that he nearly forgot to feel ashamed of his own comparatively slighter appendage. 

“It was not erect before,” Thomas replied dryly, trying to hide his anxious excitement. “So it is practically a stranger.”

“Then these strangers need to acquaint themselves with each other,” Kocoum reached to the floor and when his hand came back it was slick with bear grease. There must have been another little pot of it underneath the wooden frame of their sleeping furs that Thomas had not seen before. “Shall I give the introductions?” He took both their members in hand and pumped gently. 

“D-do not jest so!” There was scarcely enough breath in Thomas’ lungs to be given to words. All his thoughts had dissipated at the hot intimate touch encircling him, them. The sheer heat of them together, the sweet friction eased by the slick, the knowledge that they were as a married couple bubbled up in Thomas too quickly. A few moments later climax claimed him and made a copious mess between them both. 

Unsurprisingly, Kocoum lasted longer in his pleasure. Thomas could hardly object as it allowed him to gaze upon his lover, even though he was twitching from post-coital sensitivity. Some minutes past and Kocoum’s back arched beautifully as he found release, though his lover was quick to pull him back down for a kiss after the initial arching. 

Kissing it turned out was just as sublime as their rutting, Thomas found himself moaning and whimpering between breaths. To his delight Kocoum was equally vocal in his appreciation murmuring Thomas’ name and pleased sounding endearments. 

“Does this make us truly married?” Thomas asked when they paused from their kisses. In the eyes of Englishmen he knew what the answer would be. In the eyes of the tribe their bond was already sanctioned. He was rather more interested in Kocoum’s answer. 

“We have long been married,” Kocoum replied without hesitation. “Since you began sleeping in my longhouse and tending to me as though you were kin. I knew there would be some bond between us when I realized the foolish man who wounded me would walk to the edge of the world to make amends. I did not know it would be this.” 

Thomas rested his head upon Kocoum’s shoulder, a new and even greater affection blooming in his chest. “The great Kocoum did not know? The tribe must be told the news tomorrow.” 

“Hush, pretty husband,” Kocoum held him tighter. “You should save your energy. Our wedding night is far from over.”

**Author's Note:**

> Defection to native tribes by English settlers was a huge problem(in the eyes of governors) in colonial times well up to the War of American Independence. Many were welcomed and assimilated into tribes where they felt they had greater personal freedom and chances at happiness. More than a few of the original Jamestown settlers defected to villages under Powhatan’s protection. 
> 
> Homosexuality and queerness within historical First Nations cultures is exceedingly difficult to pin down – especially for the Eastern Seaboard tribes. Sympathizers of the native peoples would often downplay any cultural differences that would paint the natives in a negative light in their reports. Those who despised natives would exaggerate any practices they perceived as perverse. As a result any information of the Northeast and Southeast tribes regarding queerness, nontraditional gender roles, et cetera, in historical times is heavily tainted by early Western prejudice. Among contemporary First Nations cultures there is no single consensus on queerness and nontraditional gender roles which is likely true of pre-Western contact culture. Each nation has its own culture and subcultures.
> 
> For the purposes of this story I assumed a very broad approach treatment of homosexual individuals which has been recorded among certain Plains nations. For some nations, homosexual couples were readily accepted as long as each partner took a different gender role in order for the couple to be as ‘self sufficient’ as a heterosexual couples. In some cultures the partner taking the role of the opposite gender would dress and live as though they were that gender. In others it was merely a matter of partaking in the traditional activities for that role without much to do about gender identity.
> 
> Powhatan language has been partially reconstructed by scholars, but is difficult to find laymen’s materials. Since Powhatan is part of the Algonquin language family Algonquin names and words have been substituted where appropriate.
> 
> \--
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](juniperstreet.tumblr.com) for fic snippets, open drabble requests, and other miscellany! I love to meet new fandom folk so send me a message any time!


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